- Discretely and with quiet strength: the Underwood Champion Portable—Tuesday, February 28th, 2017
The typewriter is one of two mass inventions that made the modern age. Without the typewriter there is no personal computer. And the typewriter in its day meant clear and readable, precise communication between individuals. It also meant the modern novel and the modern author, who writes books by the sheet and box-load. The typewriter meant mass-producing authors and not just books. In this way, the typewriter also created the modern reader, by making it possible to stock large bookstores.
If I had my choice, I wrote six years ago, I’d get a typewriter that looked like the Underwood No. 5. It looks vaguely like one of those over-cerebral aliens with huge foreheads. It leaves no question that it’s a serious machine.
A little over a year ago, browsing through the San Diego swap meet, I met a different Underwood, a portable Champion. It’s much sleeker than the No. 5 and I immediately began revisiting what I really wanted in a typewriter. I had envisioned the No. 5 as more of a decoration than a tool, but the Champion looked like something I might actually use. By the time I finished wandering the swap meet, I had decided to try: I offered the dealer a much lower amount than the asking price, in cash, and walked out with my first, and still only, typewriter.
Until this, I never really used a typewriter to write. In grade school everything was handwritten (to the chagrin of the nuns) and in high school, I tried, once, to type a paper on my mom’s undersized plastic portable, but it was easier to write a word processor on my TRS-80 and type there. The keyboard was nicer, and the output was more readable.1
I took typing in high school one semester, but it was all practice. I don’t even remember if the typewriters in that classroom were available for typing papers for other classes. As I recall, it never occurred to me to ask.2
- Why government-funded cancer research is dangerously unlike the Manhattan Project—Wednesday, October 12th, 2016
One of the problems that came to light with the Epipen scandal is that companies are allowed to take taxpayer money for research without making the results of their research open and free for use by all.1 No government-funded research should be hidden from the public. If a researcher wants to hide their data sets, they should not take taxpayer money. And it isn’t just health care companies doing this—academic researchers do it all the time, too.
Maintaining a strong separation between public and private spheres is a very conservative idea, and a vitally important one for technological advancement, such as improving medicine. It’s part of what President Eisenhower meant when he warned us against the domination of the nation’s scholars by a scientific-technological elite:
A steadily increasing share is conducted for, by, or at the direction of, the Federal government… Partly because of the huge costs involved, a government contract becomes virtually a substitute for intellectual curiosity… The prospect of domination of the nation’s scholars by Federal employment, project allocations, and the power of money is ever present and is gravely to be regarded.
Yet, in holding scientific research and discovery in respect, as we should, we must also be alert to the equal and opposite danger that public policy could itself become the captive of a scientific-technological elite.
The massive amount of money that government can throw at a problem makes it very difficult for researchers to look at solutions that compete with what government bureaucrats think is the right path. It’s very difficult to follow an innovative path if it means foregoing hundreds of thousands and even millions of dollars in grants. The least we can do to overcome that tendency for government funding to encourage monopolies in both the market and in research is make sure that government funding does not result in government-created monopolies on the results of the research funded.
- Verbatim Bluetooth Folding Keyboard—Tuesday, October 11th, 2016
While it seems to have been sadly discontinued, the three-in-one solar-powered Logitech K760 that I reviewed in A Tale of Two Keyboards is still going strong. The iWerkz has, sadly, developed problems. Some of the keys don’t work unless I play at the keyboard every time I turn it on, and some of the keys never do start working during some sessions.
I’m pretty sure that the problems were battery-related. I’ve gotten so used to the durability of built-in batteries on Apple products that I forget, sometimes, why people like to be able to change batteries out. Because they lose power over time. The iWerkz customer support people were very responsive, but, as a writer, I need to have a keyboard that works not one that I can get working if I try hard enough.
So when I went looking for a replacement, I specifically looked for a keyboard with replaceable batteries. That’s a tall order, because portable keyboards also need to be small. This Verbatim folding Bluetooth keyboard solves the problem by putting the two AA batteries into a ridge on the left, that folds over into a groove on the right.
The Verbatim does not come with a handy iPad/iPhone stand. It does have a slide-out stand for iPhones, but it’s designed for older iPhones with the wider pin connector: the slide-out has a dummy piece of plastic sized to fit into the wide pin connector and hold the iPhone up that way. It won’t work with newer iPhones, and it won’t work with iPads, newer or older. While the older iPads also have that connector, the slide-out stand won’t support the greater weight of the iPad. Rather than a plastic case that doubles as an iPad/iPhone stand, as the iWerkz ingeniously has, the Verbatim comes with a leather-like pouch to protect the folded keyboard from battering while traveling.
The lack of a stand doesn’t bother me, because I already have an articulated stand that I occasionally used when using the Logitech with the iPad.
- “Top Shelf” Classic movies for Apple TV—Thursday, May 26th, 2016
“Watch classic TV shows and movies recommended just for you. Classix has something for everyone. There’s even cartoons and movies just for kids with family-friendly entertainment.”
Classix is a nice app; the only problems I see are that (a) it doesn’t seem to let you rate movies, despite showing a star rating in the description, and (b) it doesn’t seem to share the watch list automatically between iOS devices. But it has some great old (public domain) movies and it makes it easy to browse and watch them.
This is pretty cool. Brian J. Coleman wrote a “Netflix for classic movies”, by which he means public domain movies. I’ve downloaded his Classix app for Apple TV and it’s pretty good; I’ve already watched House on Haunted Hill with Vincent Price. But he’s also blogged about how to write Apple TV applications. One of the things that’s nice about his app compared to too many others—including some from Apple—is that he populates the “top shelf” with recent movie updates. And he has a blog entries showing developers how to work with video, including how to populate the top shelf, with Swift code.
There is no excuse for not populating the top shelf with useful information. Especially apps that frequently update, such as Apple’s own podcast app or the YouTube app.
Coleman’s sample code makes me want to find something to program myself and sideload onto my Apple TV.
- Review of the TRS-80 Model 100/200—Tuesday, May 24th, 2016
I’ve just acquired a TRS-80 Model 100 and I’m taking the giant risk of typing up this review on the Model 100 itself. So far it’s been retaining data when powered off for an hour or so, but how it will hold out when turned off for the 8 or so hours it takes to drive from Michigan to Missouri, and then the 14 or so from Missouri to Texas, I guess I’ll find out.
The manual is unclear on whether the AA batteries, which last for 20 hours of actual use, also assist the NiCAD when the unit is turned off. The NiCAD is probably the original and may or may not be working at all. It doesn’t bode well that unplugging the unit from AC power after installing fresh AA batteries resulted in the unit powering off (though with no data loss). It did not switch seamlessly over to battery power as a modern computer would do.
As a portable computer, this must have been astounding at the time. It has the built-in, simple, word processor that I’m using to type this (it’s more of what we today would call a text editor), an address book, and a scheduler.
The address book and scheduler are literally managed by using the word processor to edit text files; the address book and scheduler apps merely search through the text files, which have completely freeform formatting rules. That is, none.
“Try to keep the record format consistent. For example, you might list the date first, followed by the time, then the location, and finally a comment about the event.”
The Model 100 also has BASIC built in, and BASIC programs can access all of the text files, making this a sort of hard-wired Editorial. That is, you can manipulate your text using BASIC programs that you write or purchase. There is no spell-checker built-in, for example, but I’d be willing to bet that there were spell-checkers available for purchase.
Interestingly, there is very little “save”-ing. Word processor files are automatically saved when exiting the app, and even BASIC files are automatically saved once you give them a name. Trying to save a BASIC program after you’ve named it results in an error: all that is necessary to save is to exit BASIC. Further, file extensions are handled almost automatically: you don’t need to specify extensions when loading or saving word processor, scheduler, or address book files, or even BASIC files. The system appends the correct extension automatically. Only when deleting files do you need to know the extension.
File management is handled through BASIC. There is no rename command, that I can find, but to delete a file you kill it in BASIC.
- Insecurity Questions enable harassment and abuse—Wednesday, April 27th, 2016
I complain a lot about insecurity questions in other articles about organizations wanting to rely solely on them and not on human intelligence. For example, wanting banks to ignore that the person owning the account is listed as a woman but the voice is clearly a man’s.
The reason insecurity questions suck so much is that they don’t just enable hackers to persecute us. Most of us live in the serene knowledge that we are too inconsequential to matter to hackers, and even when hackers randomly choose one person to steal money from, we’re still just one in three hundred million in the United States, and one in seven billion in the world. The odds, we think, are in our favor.1
Insecurity questions suck because they enable easy hacking by precisely the people we do have to worry about: the abusive ex-boyfriend, the crazy ex-girlfriend with a penchant for boiling rabbits, the stalker, the shady brother-in-law who is always in debt. Insecurity questions rely on personal information that are already known by the people we most have to worry about. Even those answers that are not widely known among our acquaintances are easily knowable simply by engaging in normal conversation among our web of friends. And the people you have to worry about have access to the edges of your web of friends. All they have to do is innocently start talking about high school to someone they know went to high school with you, and they’ve got your high school. Your pet’s name probably has already been posted to Facebook and is easily accessible by a friend of a friend who is not your friend at all.
The entire reason for insecurity questions is so that someone who does not have your password can reset your password without having to talk to a human. The selling point is that they are for helping you when you don’t have your password. But they’re just as useful for anyone else who also doesn’t have your password.
They’ve removed the checkbox to no longer show alerts that used to show up on the second iteration of the alert.
- How does Apple’s supposed anti-conservative bias matter?—Wednesday, February 24th, 2016
The software that the FBI wants Apple to write so as to install it on an iPhone is commonly described as a “backdoor”, but really it’s more of a sliding window. A backdoor is a system currently in place that allows someone with knowledge of the backdoor to open it. What the FBI is complaining about is that Apple hasn’t built a backdoor into the iPhones they sell. And they’ve made it very difficult to guess an unknown password, because, potentially, after ten guesses the phone will erase all of its data—and even if the erase functionality is turned off, subsequent guesses take more and more time. And because the data is encrypted using the password, the data can’t be gotten out in any way other than knowing or guessing that password.
The FBI wants Apple to build a window that they can slide into place, allowing the FBI to keep trying passwords until they guess the right one, without slowing down and with no fear of erasing the data.1
If the iPhone has a 4-digit password, they’ll be able to guess the password in several minutes to several hours, depending on how quickly the sliding window lets them try new ones. If it has a 6-digit password, it might take several days.2
I see a lot of commenters on conservative blogs saying that if this were a Christian baker or a tea party member, Apple would turn over the iPhone’s key without even requiring a warrant.
This is an important point. It isn’t just that we don’t trust the government or Apple to keep the sliding window safe. It is that we don’t trust the motives of future governments or future Apple employees.
Currently, those who think Apple would “turn over the key” if it were a conservative are wrong. Apple can’t do it because Apple designed their phones so that even Apple cannot hack them. They don’t have the capability, because they haven’t yet built the capability, even to brute-force the passwords by trying every possible one.
But if they build the tool the FBI wants them to build, they will have the capability.